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Today on Veterans Day, we commemorate St. Menas, the soldier-saint. It is fitting then that a miracle from his life ties the two events together.

St. Menas, an Egyptian by birth, was a military officer and served in the Kotyaeion region of Phrygia under the centurion Firmilian during the reign of the emperors Diocletian (284-305) and Maximian (305-311). He was brave in battle and was actually honored for his service. Yet, when the orders came to persecute Christians in North Africa, Menas, unlike many of the puppets to authority that enact vile acts of violence, chose to follow the dictates of his own conscience. He abandoned his post, went AWOL into the mountains and dwelt in silence and seclusion there for several years.

Abbamoses.com continues this saint’s life, “In time, he presented himself at a pagan festival, denounced the idols and declared himself a Christian. For this he was handed over to the governor of the city, who subjected him to horrible tortures and finally had him beheaded. Some faithful retrieved part of his relics and gave them honorable burial near Lake Mareotis, about thirty miles from Alexandria. The church built over his tomb became a place of pilgrimage not only for countless Egyptians but for Christians all over the world: evidence has been found of journeys to his shrine from as far away as Ireland.”

Saint Menas monastery as it stands today outside of Alexandria, near the now mythical place he appeared 15 centuries later to Allied troops leading them to victory

But 15 centuries after his death, the saint appeared once again to fight the good fight. This time during the Second World War in the North African front. The Synaxarion gives an account of this miracle:

“In June 1942, during the North-Africa campaign that was decisive for the outcome of the Second World War, the German forces under the command of General Rommel were on their way to Alexandria, and happened to make a halt near a place which the Arabs call El-Alamein after Saint Menas. An ancient ruined church there was dedicated to the Saint; and there some people say he is buried. Here the weaker Allied forces including some Greeks confronted the numerically and militarily superior German army, and the result of the coming battle seemed certain. During the first night of engagement, Saint Menas appeared in the midst of the German camp at the head of a caravan of camels, exactly as he was shown on the walls of the ruined church in one of the frescoes depicting his miracles. This astounding and terrifying apparition so undermined German morale that it contributed to the brilliant victory of the Allies. The Church of Saint Menas was restored in thanksgiving and a small monastery was established there.”

The legendary appearance of the saint to do battle during the Second Battle of El Alamein (23 October–11 November 1942) marked a watershed moment for the Allies. They had lost a previous battle there, and it was this victory that according to Wikipedia, “turned the tide in the North African Campaign and ended the Axis threat to Egypt, theSuez Canal and the Middle Eastern and Persian oil fields via North Africa. The Second Battle of El Alamein revived the morale of the Allies, being the first big success against the Axis since Operation Crusader in late 1941. The battle coincided with the Allied invasion of French North Africa in Operation Torch, which started on 8 November.”

Saint Menas with two camels, one of the popular Coptic icons of him in Egypt. The monastery devoted to his memory is in the background.

Indeed, many a veteran of WW2 owes his life to the intercessions of the Holy St. Menas. It is not against Christian teaching that soldiers pray for victory over the dark forces that threaten to take over the world. If ever there was a demonic action that manifested in real history, it was the Nazi invasion of Europe and North Africa. May the martyred soldier-saints such as Aghios Menas continue to do battle against these dark forces especially in the 21st century when they are gaining strength because of the atheism, egoism, and pride that have infiltrated the soul of post-modern mankind.

Oh Holy Saint Menas pray for us! Remember the veterans like him who served with their lives to defend the causes of liberty, justice and goodness.

Astoria, that Greek town tucked away in the northwest corner of Queens, is not particularly known for its theater. But that’s about to change. For six nights, Evan Zes puts on a one-man comedy named Rent Control. Staged at the Greek Cultural Center, a basement theater that is so intimate it seats at most maybe 20 people (I swear some people’s living rooms are bigger than the entire space), an unassuming venue on its face, “Rent Control” is a tour-de-force of pure wit. Who would even think that Astoria could be a place to watch Off-Broadway plays that weren’t corny or amateur? Get your ticket because it’s happening!

Evan Zes (who I suspect shortened his long exotic Greek name to fit on a playbill) tells the tale of his arrival to New York City after graduating with an MFA from Harvard loaded with student debt to pursue every bartender’s dream of becoming an actor. The first order of business: rent an apartment. In a witty rollercoaster series of events and characters, he tells the tale of how he lands the dream apartment on the Upper East Side and how he loses it. In 75 intense minutes, he sums up his curriculum vitae as an aspiring actor in NYC and runs through the 80s, 90s, and 2000s to the present all the while narrating ironically how subletting an apartment that was never his to begin with allows him to keep on making a living to support his dream of becoming an actor. The plot twists when a side-deal on AirBNB with a Jay who he’s never met leads to fraud which leads to extortion by mob-sounding characters which leads to his winding up on a street in Astoria homeless with five black plastic bags in tow. And he does all this without an intermission.

Zes puts on a pants-splitting tour-de-force of hilarious New York caricatures that are hilarious because they are so true. He impersonates all the characters in this rags-to-rental tale starting from Sonia, the old miserable roommate whose ad he answers at Actors Equity, Doug the diet-pilled coked up real estate broker, to the Ukrainian super, Super Sally his wife, little old Miss Rosie the Romanian, Chang the 3-fingered laundry cleaner across the street, to Efren the Albanian fruitcake barber, the Guido extortioner Big Joey, Charise his other roommate, and a host of AirBNB renters with accompanying accents—Argentines, French, Germans, even New Jersey. It is his versatility as an actor to bring to life the gamut of New York character types that makes his performance so engaging. Not to mention his facial expressions. I could not stop laughing, and neither could the guy in front of me that belched laughter that was itself so contagious.

A struggling actor falls backwards into an NYC rent-controlled apartment and turns it into a lucrative AIRBNB scheme in this wild-but-TRUE one-man show. Watch Evan Zes portray nearly 30 characters as they close in on him and threaten to ruin his life in this cautionary tale of greed and redemption. (www.evanzesrental.com

The script is packed with a succession of one-liners and self-deprecating jokes: MFA stands for another Mother F**ing Actor; the loneliness and sense of unaccomplishment that returning home to New York gives like getting whacked with a lead pipe on the back of the head; the pitiful life of an actor who makes no money, half-drunk on the way to the gym. What makes the script keep together is that Zes repeats the one-liners and accents of each character as well as predictable sound effects, the rubber ducky squeaking of his long hallway to the door, the AOL “You’ve Got Mail,” the ringtone of the cell phone.

Rent Control is smart, totally engaging, and tight.

It combines the wit of Aristophanes with the plot reversal of a Seinfeld episode.

But mostly it uses the stuff of Zes’ own life to make understated but satirical side comments about the pipe dream of making it as an actor, the cut-throat real estate market, gentrification, criminal identity theft and extortion. If it could be improved by anything, it would be to slow down the “plot” sequence narrated at the end; but it’s the complications of the convoluted subletting to subletters schemes that get to all the trouble. So scratch that. It was perfect! So hilarious it’s worth to go again. (And for $25 a ticket, you can!)

What makes Rent Control so funny it that we know it is all so true. That’s why we laugh at the predicaments and the ironies of New York living. It proves life is comedy and comedy is life. And weirdly, Astoria, Greek town, the place Evan at last finds a one-bedroom with a backyard, a propane barbeque grill, and a firepit, on the same street he passed out when he realized he lost his dream apartment has become a place you can watch Off-Broadway theater that rivals Avenue Q without even taking the subway. No fancy sets, only an armchair, just a projector, some sound effects, and raw penetrating comedy, well-written, well-performed. The show proves you can travel all over trying to find something and return home to find it.

Rent Control is being performed next weekend for a limited engagement.

Sunday 11/5 at 5:00pm

Friday 11/10 at 8:00pm

Saturday 11/11 at 8:00pm

Sunday 11/12 at 5:00pm

Get tickets at the Greek Cultural Center (by the way, it’s moved from the basement on Hoyt Avenue to a basement on 30th Street,2680 30th St. (lower level) Astoria, NY 11102 just one block from 31st Street and the 30th Avenue subway stop, which by the way, is not stoppable at because it is under construction till spring 2018)

As we honor all those who took a stand against fascism and tyranny during World War 2 in Greece, we cannot forget the unsung heroines of the Greek Resistance. Not enough spotlight has been cast on the women’s role in the war. Because they were not forced to enlist, their contributions are hushed in the shadows of history. However, the women’s role in the war was as great as their male counterparts. Many women fought side by side with their fathers, brothers, husbands. They took part in clandestine operations supplying weapons, ammunition, food, and medicines to the guerrilla fighters hiding in the hills and mountains. Others risked their lives by harboring guerrillas or English stragglers wanted by the Germans. They nursed soldiers in the dark nights under threat of bombardment. They cooked literally for an army. And they did all this in addition to their normal duties: taking care of infants, some still nursing; upkeeping the farms and the harvest in the fields; bringing water from the well; baking bread; mending clothes; cleaning up. Although this post is very short because of lack of time to research the tremendous contributions women made to the war front, I have only managed to uncover the stories of two heroines.

Terpsichori Chryssoulaki-Vlachou

Less than 18, Terpsichori Chrysoulaki-Vlachou died in front of a firing squad for participating in the Greek Resistance in Crete.

Born in 1926 on the island of Crete, in the town of Sitia, Greece, Terpsichori was one of the many Cretan women who responded eagerly and passionately to the national call by the Greek government to fight Nazi occupation of Greece during World War II. Hidden in the monastery of Toplou, (Greek: Τοπλού), her experience as a wireless operator helped the resistance movement.

She was arrested and sentenced to death by the Germans. She was taken to Ayia Jail and executed in June 1944. Before her execution she manifested unprecedented courage. Οn the wall of her cell she wrote, «I am Ι8 years old and sentenced to death. The firing squad will be here in a minute. Long live Greece! Long live Crete!».”Είμαι 18 χρονών. Με καταδίκασαν σε θάνατο. Περιμένω από στιγμή σε στιγμή το εκτελεστικό απόσπασμα. Ζήτω η Ελλάδα. Ζήτω η Κρήτη!”)

Maria Glymidaki

Maria Glymidaki sent to Auschwitz for defending her brother against a paratrooper who dropped in her backyard. Sent to more than one concentration camp.

Maria Glymidaki-Manolaraki was from Chrysavgi, Kissamos. When she discovered a German paratrooper fighting her younger brother, she attacked the paratrooper, took his gun, hit him and left him unconscious. As a result, she and her brother were arrested and sentenced to death by the German military court in Chania. Her sentence was commuted by Hitler and changed to life imprisonment. She and her brother were sent to a POW camp in Zemun, near Belgrade. In 1943, she was transferred to a prison camp in Auschwitz, Poland. While there, she essentially lost her identity and became a number when they stamped her left hand with the number 82211. From Auschwitz, she was transferred to Ravensbruck, Germany, where she was forced to work in a war factory with the Moschogiannaki sisters from Iraklio. When they discovered the Germans were leaving Crete, the three Cretan girls left the camp and walked back to Greece,from Haravgi, Chania. She was arrested and sent to Auschwitz for her resistance work. The serial number engraved on her arm is still visible. (Crete Magazine, May 2014).

Helen Marketaki

Helen Marketaki was convicted and executed for the same reason as Chrysoulaki-Vlachos, and was also from Sitia. After the execution, the men of the firing squad in Agia returned to their unit, keeping the spoils of their assignment: the shoes of the two executed girls. Marketaki was only 30 years old. Helen’s mother was another example of superiority and mental fortitude that exemplified the love she had for her homeland. After her daughter was executed, Germans plundered her home and took her wedding ring and eyeglasses. Through an interpreter she said: “Tell the officer to give me my glasses so that I can make him a coffee to honor the memory of my daughter.”

Two generations of female freedom fighters from Crete.

Terpsichore Adamaki-Chatzopoulou

Terpsichore Adamaki-Chatzopoulou was also from Sitia. She was accused of relaying information to the allies in the Middle East by broadcasting information by radio from the Toplou monastery. She was first captured by the Italians. After six months of incarceration in the prison of Neapoli, she was freed but then returned to prison by the Germans. After being tortured in Agios Nikolaos, she was transferred to the Agia prison, where among other things, she witnessed the executions of patriots. Because no incriminating evidence was found against her, the Military Court of Chania imposed house arrest on her. After the liberation, the English honored her with the gold Medal of Valor.

Katina Eleftherakis-Papadakis

Katina Papadakis Eleftherakis, a resident of Sitia, was charged with concealing an allied radio in the outskirts of Toplou. Helen Marketaki, also from her village, took full responsibility for hiding the radio so that Katina would not be executed. Because Katina was so young, the Military Court of Chania did not find her guilty and condemn her to death but, instead, tortured her. Katina was arrested in May 1943. At first she was imprisoned and abused in Agios Nikolaos. She was then transferred to Agia prison. Then for 50 days she was imprisoned in Vanitsa, Belgrade. From September 1944 to April 1945 she was in the dreadful camp Oranienburg in Berlin. She was released from the Hamburg camp because of intervention from the Americans.

Virginia Galanoudaki-Kanellou

Virginia Galanoudaki-Kanellou was from Agios Nikolaos and had a charming beauty. The Italians called her the “Bella Virginia.” She was a great help to the resistance. With special permission and under the pretext that she was conducting fundraisers “in favor of the poor,” she raised money for the resistance. As a nun volunteering for the Red Cross, she arranged for the release of many prisoners by falsifying medical certificates and x-rays. Once, by special permit, she visited political prisoners in the monastery of Kroustallenia in Lasithi, and brought them food and sweets. However, a pack of cigarettes that concealed a letter she was not aware of betrayed her. She was arrested and during the harsh interrogation, took responsibility for the letter. Since there was no incriminating evidence against her during the trial, she was given a three-month suspended sentence.

Evangelia Kladou

A teacher who was nicknamed “Capitanissa” Evangelia Kladou was executed for her heroic resistance to the Nazis in Crete

Evangelia Kladou was born in Anogia. During the German-Italian occupation, she was a teacher in Crete. She was also recruited as one of the first members of the national resistance and became one of the most active members within its ranks. She took to the mountains and was given the title of “kapetanissa.” The legendary teacher and kapetanissa was arrested because she did not back down from her ideals and was subsequently executed in Chania on December 6, 1949.

Maria Lioudaki

Another heroine who was executed in front of firing squad for her acts of resistance against fascism

Maria Lioudaki was born in Latsida, outside of Mirabello. She was an enlightened and charismatic teacher, who became a folklorist and great visionary pioneer of educational reform during her era. She emerged at the same time as a fighter of freedom and democracy. She took part in the liberation struggle of the people and later fell victim to the political fanaticism of the time. She was captured while serving in Ierapetra and executed in 1947 in Iraklio.

Maria Drandaki

Maria Drandaki was born in Ierapetra and took part in the national resistance. She established, with Mary Lioudaki and other women, the organization of the women’s section of EAM (the National Liberation Front) of Ierapetra. She also was a member of the organization, “National Solidarity.” She was executed with Lioudaki in 1947.

Many women took arms against the Nazi threat and fought alongside fathers, brothers, sons, and husbands. This guerilla group featured fearless females in the mix.

How many more heroines of the Greek Resistance exist? Their names are buried in obscurity until a team of researchers, writers, and videographers does the vital work of telling their story.

The important thing to remember is that it takes more than one hero to win the war. It takes a village.

What does OXI Day mean to me? As a first-generation Greek-American, I never had a class in Greek history. Sure I took AP American History in high school. I faintly remember Mr Driggs, the wonderful African-American teacher who enthralled me with his knowledge, speaking about the role of Greece in delaying the onslaught of the Nazi advance through Europe. But, that was it. In order to get the real story of the pivotal role the tiny nation of Ellas played during this massive conflict, I had to educate myself. History is tied to politics. It depends on who is telling the story and who tells it with the loudest voice. When you reside thousands of miles away from your home culture, you get to study the dominant culture’s history, not your own.

The circumstances around OXI Day go something like this:

-there was a diplomatic party at German Embassy in Athens

-after the party at 4 o’clock in the morning the Italian ambassador to Greece delivered the message to General Metaxas, the dictator of Greece at the time, allow Axis forces to enter Greek territory and occupy certain unspecified “strategic locations” or go to war.

-a half later, General Metaxa delivered the answer in one short word: “OXI” (But more precisely, it was “OXI, Alors c’est la guerre.”)

-an hour after that at 5:30 am in the morning, Italian troops stationed in Albania, then an Italian protectorate, attacked the Greek border—the beginning of Greece’s participation in World War II

-after the rest of Greece find out about the news, on the morning of October 28th, normal citizens, even those at odds and at the extreme of the political spectrum, ran into the streets yelling “OXI!”

So often the political and historical sounds far away and is far removed from the present and the personal. But in a small country like Greece, the political impact of events has a way of trickling down to the individual. Fast forward to 2003. On a day like October 28th, I remember attending a screening of a little-known documentary called “The Eleventh Day” at the local chapter of the Cretan Society. It told the story of the Battle of Crete. Using archival footage and interviews of men and women who took part, the film told the story of how regular every-day people, simple village people like my yiayia who could not read or write, organized themselves and took incredible risks to smuggle maps and other intelligence to the Greek forces. (In one scene, a Greek official smuggled maps through the scrutiny of two guards by hiding them in the most apparent place–within the confines of his closed umbrella.) I saw how mothers clandestinely sent messages via a tight-knit network of children to the guerilla fighters, sons and husbands, fighting in the mountains.

An artist’s rendition of the falling of the German parachutists over Chania

I envisioned how my yiayia could have taken the butcher knife she had used to harvest grapes from the vine to a German paratrooper’s throat, the one who dropped down into her vineyards in a village outside of Sfakia, Crete. Hitler did not anticipate so much resistance on the part of the civilian population. In fact, you could say yiayiades beat the Germans’ butts off. If it hadn’t been for the Battle of Crete, the intelligence that the Germans used would never have been deciphered. Hitler underestimated the time it would take to take over Crete and continue his onslaught of Europe. The delays caused in Crete and along the Northern border with Albania forced him to dispatch reinforcements. The delay cost time and by then, the spring had turned into winter and nothing is as brutal as the Russian winter. Ultimately, it was the Russian winter that decimated Hitler’s army. This changed the tide of the war.

Memorial to those who fell in the Battle of Crete

But the people’s resistance did not go by unpunished. This is what the Wikipedia post says about “The Battle of Crete”:

Cretan civilians joined the battle with whatever weapons were at hand. In some cases, ancient matchlock rifles which had last been used against the Turks were dug up from their hiding places and pressed into action. Civilians went into action armed only with what they could gather from their kitchens or barns and several German parachutists were knifed or clubbed to death in olive groves. An elderly Cretan man clubbed a parachutist to death with his walking cane, before the German could disentangle himself from his parachute.[67]A priest and his son broke into a village museum and took two rifles from the era of the Balkan Warsand sniped German paratroops at landing zones. The Cretans used captured German small arms and civilians joined in the Greek counter-attacks at Kastelli Hill and Paleochora; the British and New Zealand advisors at these locations were hard pressed to prevent massacres. Civilians also checked the Germans to the north and west of Heraklion and in the town centre.[68]

Thousands of Fallschirmjager were dropped onto Crete.

This was the first occasion that the Germans encountered widespread resistance from a civilian population and were surprised. After the shock, the Germans retaliated, killing many Cretan civilians. The Holocaust of Viannos(Greek: Ολοκαύτωμα της Βιάννουand theMassacre of Kondomari(Σφαγή στο Κοντομαρί) were exterminations of civilians of around 20 villages east of Viannos and west of Ierapetra provinces. The killings, with a death toll in excess of 500, were carried out from 14–16 September 1943, by Wehrmachtunits. They were accompanied by the burning of most villages, and the looting and destruction of harvests.[69][70]The massacres were some of the deadliest of the Axis occupation of Greece during World War II. It was ordered by Generalleutnant Friedrich-Wilhelm Müller, in retaliation for the involvement of the local population in the Cretan resistance. Müller, “the Butcher of Crete”, was killed after the war for his part in the massacre. As most Cretan partisans wore no uniforms or insignia such as armbands or headbands, the Germans felt free of all of the constraints of the Hague conventions and killed armed and unarmed civilians indiscriminately.[a]

OXI Day has to do with the underdog. It has to do with the power of NO– with the power of keeping strict boundaries, with not caving in to bullies or power gesturing cowards. It has to do with self-esteem and dignity and integrity. It has to do with the bravery that normal people, like my yiayia, find buried deep inside them that comes out at times of crisis. I think it is a history lesson that transcends history; it has to do with everyday relations and interpersonal dynamics. It is a lesson we are still repeating today (Remember back in July when Greece said OXI to the Greek referendum?) This is the lesson that OXI Day has for me.

When I woke up this morning after struggling all night with a terrible migraine, the words of The Athena Declaration, came rippling right out of my head:

“When in the Course of human events it becomes evident that an institution established to guarantee the security, sanctity and the happiness of each sex is deemed no longer fruitful for such, it is necessary for each sex to dissolve the nuptial bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Nature, God, and their own Conscience entitle them. A decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that the injured sex should expound on the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold as true that indeed both sexes are created equal, albeit different, endowed by their Creator certain graces and abilities that can complement each other and when conjoined in mutually respectful matrimony, they each can exhibit these graces and live to the full potential of their God-granted abilities, while at the same time serving as mutual supports to each other. To secure these rights, legal institutions such as marriage have been created to guarantee them. However, whenever such stated institution becomes destructive, oppressive, and intolerable, it is the right of one sex to alter or abolish it.”

Indeed, the argument is not just one that calls for the necessity of divorce when individual marriage becomes unfruitful, but for the abolition of the entire institution itself if it does not serve the interests of the majority.

As I witness it, the holy state of matrimony has been so marred and scathed with inequality, unrightful gain and unrighteousness that it plainly does not work anymore. And when I mean “marriage” I mean the ideal marriage, one in which both members are mutually loved, respected and cared for. Marriage that not just uphold equality of both members but actually serves to actualize both, when a synergy of relationship gives rise to the better of both.

It is my claim that given the realities of marriage as they exist in modern day, it would be wise for Greek women to take a pact of virginity like the Parthenos goddesses of old, Athena, Diana, Hestia. It is better for women to stay single than be married, given the conditions of marriage in the present day.

Here are the reasons in no order of importance:

Marriage does not work for the majority of cases. Spare yourself the disappointment and grief, Kore.

“Since 1965, the crude marriage rate in the EU-28 has declined by close to 50 % in relative terms (from 7,8 per 1 000 persons in 1965 to 4.1 in 2013). At the same time, the crude divorce rate increased from 0.8 per 1 000 persons in 1965 to 1.9 in 2013,” cites a recent Eurostat report. The statistics are worse for the US. Research indicates that one divorce occurs per an estimated 13 seconds in the United States, ranking it sixth on a global divorce rate scale. 50% of all children in the US under the age of 18 will be products of divorce. If over 50% of marriages end in divorce, what is the use of getting involved in it?A couple can go into the situation with the most ideal of circumstances, but the realities of the statistics must be sobering. Perhaps this is the reason why the rate of Americans choosing to live the single life is the highest it has been ever. According to a Census Bureau report, the gap between married (133.6M) and unmarried (121.5M) Americans has narrowed since 1950, so that it is just about 50/50 take away 10M. What is startling is that 67% of those in the single camp have never been married. In 2005, 90% more single-person households existed than in 1970.

Just because you are married does not make you happy.

While research from the US does cite that people’s overall life satisfaction is higher when they are married, there is a twist in the results. The report cited that marriage leads to increased well-being—“and it does so much more for those who have a close friendship with their spouses . . .those who consider their spouse or partner to be their best friend get about twice as much life satisfaction from marriage as others.” (http://www.businessinsider.com/national-bureau-of-economic-research-marriage-study-2015-1) So it is not marriage per se that makes you happier, but friendship in marriage.

“Finding support in long-term relationships, then, may be the key to achieving lasting happiness. This is not necessarily true, however, for marriages in Latin America, the Caribbean and Sub-Saharan Africa, where the study found that marriage actually leads to a decline in happiness.”(www.businessinsider.com).

I would venture to add Greece to the list. There is a dearth of statistics for Greek couples, but I am wagering that 8 out of 10 Greek couples are unhappy. It would be impossible to even gather such statistics because Greeks do not air their “dirty laundry” to strangers but keep it in the family. In addition, Greek culture is so pro-marriage that it will never admit that marriage is less than the ideal living arrangement. Greek couples stay married even under the most unhappy of circumstances because the stigma of being “alone” or “divorced” is so great. Even if divorce has become more common-place in the 21st century, the taboo of divorce is still strong. The underlying thinking is that you failed in some way and that no one can possibly be happy alone. But I am willing to wager that in fact because of the inequities in spousal responsibilities, the machismo in Greek culture and the antiquated way of seeing gender roles, many couples are shackled to unproductive expectations of marital bliss, living lives of quiet resignation to their fate or “moira” while putting up appearances of happily-ever after home lives.

The taboo against being single in Greek culture is so strong that many women live lives of quiet resignation in marriage than living lives on their own terms. They know their partner might be having extramarital affairs but they “forgive” him and put up with the situation because of the “children.” Or worse, they resign themselves to the idea that “that’s the way men are.” You can’t expect to have a husband be faithful to you because it’s against their nature. But it’s a tricky argument: when does nature end and nurture begin? Greek men have a reputation as macho philanderers. That’s part of their allure. It is common practice to have fathers pass down the machismo ways to their sons: “You marry Marial to raise your children, cook and keep your house and your reputation, but you keep Mariko to get your groove on.” This fact has not been lost on women as a report by the “Andrological Institute of Athens (isn’t that as patriarch-centric!) found that women are just as likely to be unfaithful as men.

“Except for that initial short-lived honeymoon effect for life satisfaction, getting married did not result in getting happier or more satisfied. In fact, for life satisfaction and relationship satisfaction, the trajectories over time headed in the less satisfied direction.”

That’s point 2, getting married usually does not lead to “happily ever after.”

“Maybe what is really important is friendship, and to never forget that in the push and pull of daily life.” University of British Columbia economics professor and study coauthor John Helliwell

A woman who accepts marriage in a majority patriarchal system is basically accepting a less than equal arrangement.

Marriage is a system, a societal institution. When the society it is a part of is highly patriarchal, the rights of a woman are de facto eroded. The final argument for staying single is a legal-political one. Once you sign up for a contract that on its face is against your better interests, that subjugates you to an inferior position by detracting rights, enforcing unequal expectations, then you have signed your status away. Why would someone who values themselves agree to sign away their benefits in a bargain that will cheat them? This is not to say that marriage has been a total lose-lose proposition. It has provided benefits to both parties.

Historically, marriage has acted as a protection for women by guaranteeing them certain financial rights and acted as a way to protect their progeny by promising inheritance. However, given the increased financial empowerment of women, the leverage that men had in marriage is diminished. If women are expected to do the lionesses’ share of nurturing, housekeeping, time management and logistical functioning of a home, while at the same time putting in the financial stakes in a marriage, marriage has lost its advantage. In Game Theory, marriage for women results in more losses than profits as it is currently operated.

The Athena Declaration proclaims staying single is preferable to getting married for most modern day women

This is probably what Athena was strategizing while ticking her father Zeus’s beard and forcing him to promise her never to force her to get married. She knew that once you got married, your rights and freedoms would be cut, according to how the contract of marriage was written in Greek society. A girl would be better off single and free.

And this is my point as well. Unless one is truly enlightened, gets plenty of counseling, gets an education, and is willing to come into the game with realistic expectations, getting married is a failing proposition for women. Women would be better off staying single, focusing on their own needs and aspirations and guaranteeing their rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness within and without the marriage state for as long as possible. Marriage is not the silver lining on life’s happy cloud. It is work and struggle and mostly disappointment. That in a nutshell is the Athena Declaration.

I end with the words of Socrates, himself an unhappily married man, who said, “Marry or don’t marry, you will regret both.”

There are perks to knowing Greek as a schoolgirl. You are the only one in your class to understand what “microbe” is without running to the dictionary.Besides just knowledge, there is a deeper wisdom that knowing words in a different language, especially Greek, bestows you.Psychologists claim that the language you are born with shapes the way you see the world and make sense of it around you.It literally colors, shapes, and orders your world.

For me, breaking down Greek words into their roots, the etymology of Greek words, provides a small insight into the mind of the ancient Greeks.They are kernels of philosophy unto themselves.The fact that a word even exists in a language gives insight into the importance of the schema (from Greek “shape” or “outward physical form”) of the abstract value or ideal it tries to capture in the culture. Here is just a random list of the kernels of Greek wisdom robed in the layers of their word histories.

In Ancient Athens, contributing to politics and society in general was considered the norm and highly desirable. Those who didn’t take part were considered apolitical and selfish; this was frowned upon and all citizens aspired to be politically active. It was rare for citizens to demonstrate apathy towards what was happening in their state and common issues. The overwhelming majority of Athenians participated in politics to a greater or lesser extent. (Of course, the ancients got the woman issue all wrong as they did not give citizenship status to women).

Those who did not contribute to politics and the community were known as “Idiotes” (ΙΔΙΩΤΕΣ),originating from the word “Idios” (ΙΔΙΟΣ) which means the self. If you did not demonstrate social responsibility and political awareness you were considered apathetic, uneducated and ignorant. The word was transferred to latin as “idiota” and was used to describe an uneducated, ignorant, inexperienced, common person.

Considering the above, it is easy to identify how the primary form and meaning of the word mutated to modern“idiot”. Most importantly it is worth noting that ancient Greeks valued political participation and collective governance. A completely different state of mind from what we see in most societies today where most demonstrate apathy to what happens around them. It is not far from the truth to conjecture that the majority of Americans are “idiotes” based on the percentage of non-voters in the previous elections.

2-“Kairos” the perfect time; the delicate or perfect or crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action words or movement.” We all know how “timing is everything.” When your girlfriend is just at that right mood, you can pop the question. When you’ve just had a winning sales streak, that’s when to ask your boss for the raise. When your opponent’s army is stuck in winter storms, that’s when you unleash the invasion. The Greeks knew this too. That’s why the word “Kairos” carries all that meaning in just one punch. It is the economy of Greek words and phrases, the ability to capture a compendium of explanation in one or two words that is extraordinary.

3 “Oniomania” the frenzy for buying things. You know that girlfriend of yours in Macy’s who racks up $500 in credit card debt in less than two hours, there’s a word to describe her–“oniomaniac” someone who just can’t stop buying things. Not me! I don’t have that disease. I have “aprati” the love of collecting beautiful things.

The Greeks nailed it. As nuanced understanders of human character, they have many words that apply to psychological states, “belonephobia: the excessive fear of needles” “plegmatic” full of phlegm or despondent, depressive,” “lethargic” as slow-moving, forgetful and lazy as the river in hell named Lethe.

4 I am not a morning person. Just the struggle of getting out of bed in the early morning hours is a war of my soul. Believe it or not, the Greeks had a word to capture this hellish condition, “clinomania” the excessive desire to stay in bed.” They even had a word to capture that in-between state of half-awakeness and half falling into sleep, that “la-la almost about to fall but can’t stop reading the page from the book,” nodding in and out of consciousness feeling. It’s called “hypnagogic” the state immediately before falling asleep.

5 “Meraki” one of my favorite concepts is “meraki” (the soul, creativity, or love put into something; the essence of yourself that is put into your work. ” The idea that when you work or make something and you put a little of you in it. When you put your passion, your soul, your love of the thing in it, it comes out better. It always does! You can taste the meraki in someone’s cooking, you can feel their passion in what they do. Let’s be honest: it’s the meraki you put into your work that makes it worthwhile. Work without meraki is just drudgery.

6 “Drapetomania” the overwhelming urge to drop everything and run away. Yup, I know what that’s like. How often have you pulled your hair tightly and screamed, “Fuck it all! I’m going to Greece! Or Timbuktu or Paris or Melbourne or anywhere but here.” I’ve been guilty of this many times in my life. But the Greeks nailed the condition in one word. Or what about “peripatetic” (my yiayia loved to come over and tell me “pame peripato”) someone who loves to walk a long time, get lost and wander. Walking makes you happy; it also helps you think. That’s why I think the Greeks did a lot of it. There were no desks in Plato’s Academy. The teachers and students would walk around a circular track and talk and walk and talk and walk.

7 As keen observers of nature, the ancient Greeks had words for the sound of the leaves and rain. “Petrichor” is the smell of the earth after the rain. You know how it smells; no need for words to describe it if you have one concept word for it all. “Psithurism” is the sound of rusting leaves. These are soothing concepts for a “nemophilist” someone who haunts the woods and loves its solitude and beauty. Get me into a forest and let me walk and get lost; I’m happy. I don’t feel so weird because there is a word that describes a whole category of people just like me.

8 The Greeks were the first psychologists. Their words describe so many psychological states they could have written the DSM in Greek. You know those people who are lost in fantasy worlds. They have a “paracosm: Greek. A detailed imaginary world created inside one’s mind. This fantasy world may involve humans, animals, and things that exist in reality; or it may also contain entities that are entirely imaginary, alien, and otherworldly.” Or those other delusional types, who can’t see the bitter realities in front of them and always sugar coat their lives. The ones who go around wearing rose-tinted glasses. These suffer from “kalopsia” seeing everything from a better perspective than what it is. And you know how the older you get, the faster times speeds up? They called that “zenosyne” the sense that time keeps going faster.

9 “Ataraxia: the inability to get shook up; tranquility and balance.” Wikipedia explains it as the only true happiness possible for a person. It signifies the state of robust tranquility that derives from eschewing faith in an afterlife, not fearing the gods because they are distant and unconcerned with us, avoiding politics and vexatious people, surrounding oneself with trustworthy and affectionate friends and, most importantly, being an affectionate, virtuous person, worthy of trust. (wikipedia). Ataraxia is the Greek equivalent of Zen. Don’t get upset over stupid people, come to terms with your own mortality, don’t ask for answers from the gods (they don’t care about humans all that much as they are more concerned about screwing each other), get some good friends around you and have some wine, but don’t be miserable and grouchy but reliable and trustworthy. That’s all folks. That’s all we can hope for in happiness from this world.

There are millions of words from ancient Greek roots used in English that provide a fascinating insight into the Greek mind. That’s the key. Keeping your mind Greek. Keeping the Greek language roots maintains the wisdom of the ancients within you. It makes you wiser and smarter. (There’s a claim for that too. Some languages such as Greek force your brain to make more synaptic connections in a sense revving up your thinking machine and making your overall smarter and quicker at processing information. Stay tuned for this post soon.

Some examples of the wisdom of Greek thought captured in the kernels of words.

A place of paradox. Families of six packed into Golden Age apartment buildings. Crystal chandeliers hang from crumbling walls–but no electricity. Ornate brass sinks enameled with peacocks—but no running water. No Smartphones, no working WiFi—but lots and lots of Chevy convertibles from the 1950s. Old-school TVs, the ones with antennae and a turn-it dial broadcasting in 4 or 5 state-run channels reminding citizens “Viva La Revolucion.” A glance into the state grocery stores, or rather warehouses, reveals empty shelves that span into the dark interior except for stock boxes of soap or sugar in the same-old burlap sack. No vitamins, no batteries, no bandaids. Going to Cuba is like taking a step backwards in time or entering into a black-and-white commercial from the 50s.

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This is the humbling lesson of Cuba—a visitor jets away counting his or her blessings; remembers that others dream of what he/she takes for granted back home. “Thank God I don’t have to live here,” the tourist thinks. He can pay for a swanky room for $20 a day, equivalent to the average monthly salary of a typical Cubano. The double-standard of foreign luxury vs national poverty is displayed by the double currency. The CUC, or cubano cubertible, is the one used on the “free market” while the moneda nacional is the one cubanos use. $1 CUC is equal to 25 moneda nacional. The CUC was introduced in the 90s to syphon off foreign investment into the country.

Yet after sauntering through the streets of Old Havana, exploring the rich green valleys of Vinales province, talking with the paijanos of the campo collecting tobacco, the visitor comes to understand a deeper paradox of poverty–poverty can make you free. Deprived of the luxuries, some the necessities, of life, el pueblo cubano displays a freedom of soul hard to find in the first world. Poverty cultivates a deep spiritual richness of soul. Even while the people struggle with making their daily bread, they dream, they dance, they laugh, they smile, and they are good to one another.

I bumped into an octagenerian poet on the corner of Mercerdaries and Obra Pia who recited the first page of his hand-stitched libretto. At the Portocarreras Gallery I had a stimulating conversation with a print-maker about his process that involved three techniques—celluloid exposure transfer, print press and paint. After work hours, when the bands gather on the corners to delight the visitors with the rhythmic pelvic pounding of the bongo drum breaking them out into a spontaneous salsa flurry. When was the last time you danced, never mind danced on the street?

This is the great paradox of poverty—that you synthesize at the end of your stay in Cuba– you realize that it is because of the lack of materialism that people are truly free and happy. This is not to romanticize poverty—I am sure that when a mother lacks antibiotics to bring down the lung infection in her infant or when a father stares blankly at empty shelves of the government almacen or warehouse, he does not feel very free. But I have witnessed how rich and supportive the relationship between neighbors and family members and friends can be. I was invited to Alamar, a working-class suburb in Havana East. The family I visited opened their home and their hearts and fed me a delicious dish of arroz cubana.

Because they are not burdened with the cares of the monetary industrialized complex, not worried about the self-inflicted competition to catch up and surpass the Joneses, they are all more or less, probably much less, in the same boat. They can be free to express their authentic selves. Their creativity sparkles; their relationships solid; their concern in the present.

And this is the further paradox that an American learns from a cubano. That you can have nothing—a ramshackle house to live in, dirty holes in your shoes, no car but a packed guagua, no A/C in 95 degree humid weather, and you can still be happy. Cuba teaches America that you can have very little and still be insanely happy. That Cuba forces you to dance in the midst of a crumbling building. That joy does not come from buying the next upgraded iPhone or amassing 20 pairs of Manolo Bhatniks or even living in a single-family home. True happiness comes from the spiritual wealth you bring to your life—your story, your party, your poem, your game, your cigar and your bottle of rum. The freedom to live your authentic self.

Perhaps I would be happier to live in Cuba even if poorer. Perhaps happiness is inversely proportional to materialism (up to a basic extent). On the exit ticket for this trip is scribbled the notes:
“Cuba—keep smiling (even when your teeth fall out).

I have had a long-standing obsession with Greek herbs. Plop me on a seaside cliff in the Aegean, a mountain side in the Peloponnesus, a valley in Larissa, and I am foraging around stones and pebbles for things green and flavorful, plucking wildflowers, rubbing leaves between my thumbs, and putting twigs under my nose. There are approximately 8,000 varieties of herbs native to Greece. You can be foraging for a long time. But this past year I had an herbalist’s dream come true—I trekked through Vikos Gorge in the The Vikos–Aoös National Park (Greek: Εθνικός Δρυμός Βίκου–Αώου Ethnikós Drymós Víkou–Aóou).

The dry seasonal river runs through Vikos Gorge channel, most time of the year, about 38 km long. At 990m deep near Monodendri and 1350 m near its end, it is one of the deepest in the world, indeed the deepest in proportion to its width.

For a botanist, Vikos is like you’ve died and gone to heaven. Vikos-Aoos is one of the ten national parks in mainland Greece, located 19 miles or 30 kilometres north of the city of Ioannina in the northern part of the Pindus mountain range. What makes this wide 31,135 acre park, part of the Natura 2000 and UNESCO Geoparks systems, so special is the spectacular Vikos Gorge, carved by the Voidomatis river. The gorge’s main part is 12 km (7 mi) long and attains a depth of 1,000 meters (3,300 ft). The entire Vikos Gorge channel, a dry seasonal river during most time of the year, is about 38 km long. At 990m deep near Monodendri and 1350 m near its end, it is one of the deepest in the world, indeed the deepest in proportion to its width. This depth and the unique position has resulted in Vikos remaining in an almost virgin condition for centuries, giving rise to a diverse variety of ecosystems. Much like a tropical rain forest, there are niches of plants (biotopes) that layer each successive altitude of the gorge.

More majestic views of the Zagorachorgia the rich mountain area in an UNESCO protected natural park.

The other factor that makes Vikos and the surrounding area so unique is its lack of human habitation. In fact, the population of the area is about 3,700, which gives a population density of 4 inhabitants per square kilometer, compared to an average of 73.8 for Greece as a whole. Wow! That’s a lot of space for flowers and plants to grow without human interference. So in tandem, the park’s remoteness and relatively small human population, combined with the great variation of biotopes and microclimatic conditions favors the existence of a rich variety of flora, by some counts 1,700 by others 1,800 specific to the Vikos Gorge area.

Vikos Gorge is all about flower power. It is the rich existence of herbs and flowers native to the niches of this region, known as Zagori or Zagarochoria, that made it famous, especially from the 17th through the 19th century. Herbal healers known as the Vikos doctors gathered herbs endemic to Vikos Gorge for their preparations in the long tradition of folk medicine. So renowned were they that they made house calls to the nobility of northern Europe and Russia, traveling with their valises stuffed with pungent herbs and plants. Like the medieval guilds, they kept the knowledge of medicinal plants a family affair and passed on knowledge of herbal remedies from father to son and mother to daughter for many generations. They gained great fame among the Ottomans. Some even served as advisors in the courts of the Ottoman Sultans. One named Paschaloglou from Kapesovo even became a confidente of four Sultans: Abdul Hamit I, Suleiman III, Mustafa IV and Mahmut II.

Local inhabitants are happy to share their herbal remedies and even sell herbs out of their back yards.

During my hike through the steep slopes of the gorge, I came across horse chestnut (Aesculus hippocastanum) grow, a tree native to the countries of the Balkan peninsula that is included in the global list of species in need of protection of the U.N. In spring, color is added to the stone by snowdrops (Galanthus reginae – olgae subsp. Vernalis), Centauries (Centaurea pawlowskii) and Madonna Lilies (Lilium candidum), all flowers protected by legislation and international treaties. (Very hard to follow the law and not pluck these beauties). There are even prehistoric flowers in the gorge. Among the rarest plants, Serbian phoenix (Ramonda serbica), dates back from an earlier geological period when the climate was tropical in Europe.

Overlooking Tymphi Mountain in the Pindos Mountains. Wherever you look at the side of the road, there are wild flowers and medicinal plants for the foraging.

One of the herbs used was the nightshade Atropa belladonna for cholic spasm.The drug atropine has been extracted from this plant which is medicinally used for this purpose to our own day. It is also said that two Vikos doctors, Pantazis Exarchou and Zonias, used fungi to treat infected wounds well before penicillin was discovered by Alexander Fleming. Other plants with suspected or known medicinal properties were also in their repertory and grow abundantly in the area, among them the lemon balm Melissa officinalis, St John’s Wort Hypericum perforatum, absinth Artemisia absinthium and the elder bush Sambucus nigra.

From the scientific article published in the Journal of Ethnopharmacology “The tradition of medicinal plants in Zagori, Epirus (northwestern Greece)” by M Malama and M. Marselos, professors in pharmacology at the University of Ioannina, a compendium of some of the most effective medicinal plants and herbs from the region have been traced from manuscripts and old recipe books up to their present day usage among inhabitants of the 12 towns that ring the gorge.

Valeriana officialis, one of the flowering plants native to the Vikos Aoos Nature Park

Cistus creticus L. or Cistes, one of the many flowering medicinal plants in Vikos Gorge

Herbal medicine and lore follows a strong oral tradition dating back centuries in Vikos and continue to the present day. Many family-run herbal stores package herbs foraged for savoriness and healing from around the Zagorachorgia. Each keeps their own recipes and concoctions and are willing to share the knowledge with travelers. The knowledge of this folk medicine is so detailed that another study has enumerated 67 different therapeutic uses for the herbs collectively known as “mints” traded in Thessaloniki. Among them the 22 uses, already mentioned by Dioscurides, show that the utilization of “mints” as herbal medicines in the Mediterranean countries has a long tradition. (“Mints”, smells and traditional uses in Thessaloniki (Greece) and other Mediterranean countries).

Vikos Gorge is just one tiny patch of ground in the good country that is Greece. Each region and elevation has its own school of folk remedies and plant uses. This makes Greece’s herbal tradition one of the oldest and richest in the world.

A rugged resident of the region prepares for the winter by foraging for firewood starting from September.

Luckily for me, my family comes from a village on the remote side of a remote Cycladic island—no hospitals, no doctors, no calling 911 for an emergency. There was no pharmacy you could send your prescription to pick up after work. Everything had to be done on the spot with the native flora of the island. Each section of each plant and flower became a medical reference manual specific to treat ailments, disease, and as elixirs and tonics to improve general health. If they survived, it was because of their knowledge of folk medicine and the detailed passing down of recipes for poultices, concoctions, teas and salves. My grandmother and her grandmother before her across a long line of folk tradition used herbs and natural remedies to cure everything from the common cold to scorpion bites. My attraction to herbal cures and the fragrances of flowers and plants runs in my ancestral blood.

To see some of the organic soaps and skin products I create with the herbs and plants from my native island country, please check out my e-shop Greek Goddess Gifts